


(iv)

by honey_fig



Series: tumblr collection [4]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Drabble Collection, Jealousy, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 19:32:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11065650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honey_fig/pseuds/honey_fig
Summary: In that moment they were almost two entirely different people. Alex, normally full of passion and able to dictate perfectly, found himself weakened for what seemed like no apparent reason. Thomas, typically a sneering, condescending oppressor, became a safety blanket of soothing words and gentle touches.This wasn’t right, was it?





	(iv)

**Author's Note:**

> 14\. “Are you jealous?”
> 
> 15\. “I’m in love with you and it’s terrifying.”

This wasn’t right, was it? Falling for the person you hated most.

It was weird. It felt gross.

Alex couldn’t help himself.

Even in class, during heated debated between the two men, expletives spilling from each other’s mouths to the point of security being called to the dorm, Alex couldn’t keep his eyes off Thomas’ lips.

In the dorm halls when Thomas not-so-discreetly bumped into him, Alex couldn’t help but relish in the contact, even if just for a second.

It was hell.

It would have been easier for Alex to push the feelings aside if Thomas wasn’t so damn promiscuous. Seeing the Virginian flirt with other men sent fire down Alex’s spine and he hated it. He hated that the man had such an effect on him. He hated that he couldn’t do anything about it. He hated that he just…couldn’t hate Thomas.

This particular occurrence happened just after class one afternoon; Alex, minding his own business, went around a corner into a breezeway that not very many people used. It was a shortcut to his dorm, albeit a bit dark and definitely not maintained. So needless to say he was surprised to see Thomas there.

He wasn’t surprised to see that Thomas had another man cornered.

It wasn’t anyone Alex recognized, but that wasn’t really saying much. He didn’t get around, didn’t have a lot of friends. He was a bit of a recluse and didn’t talk to anyone outside of arguments in class between him and Thomas.

But seeing the look on Thomas’ face in the breezeway felt like daggers to Alex’s skin. His eyes were filled with a predatory lust, and Alex was wrongly bitter about it. He didn’t have any right to feel jealous. It wasn’t like Thomas was his. It wasn’t like Thomas would ever even be his.

But when the pair made eye contact, Alex’s eyes couldn’t hide the emotion he felt.

Thomas opened his mouth to speak, lips curled in a smug snarl, but before he could say a word Alex was turned on his heels and walking the other way. Books held to his chest, shoulders hunched forward, he was the epitome of rejection.

He was out of the square, almost to the building that housed his dorm, when he felt a strong hand on his shoulder.

“Shit, those tiny legs move fast,” Thomas panted behind him.

“Fuck off,” was Alex’s hushed reply, squirming out of the man’s grip to no avail.

“Woah, kiddo, you sound pissed,” Thomas chuckled. “Are you jealous?”

“Don’t call me that. And no, I most certainly am not.”

His voice wasn’t convincing in the slightest, and he knew Thomas could tell.

Alex began to panic.

He could feel his chest tightening and his breath become shallow as he violently wrestled out of Thomas’ grip on his shoulder, practically throwing himself into a run. He didn’t make it very far - maybe ten feet, give or take - before falling to the ground. Of course he couldn’t make it to his dorm. Of course he had to fall in front of Thomas. Of course he had to be seen like this, his weakness exposed, to the man who had dedicated his life to hating Alex.

Of course.

He expected to be laughed at, to be made fun of. He expected disgusting remarks and insults, maybe even a kick in the ribs or two.

He didn’t expect the comforting hand on his back. He didn’t expect the soothing voice to break through the panic into his mind. He didn't expect Thomas to know what this was like.

“Come on,” Thomas murmured, pulling Alex to his feet. “Let’s get you to your room.”

Alex tried to catch his breath but found it difficult, his vision tunneling. He could feel Thomas’ grip, gentle now, and could hear his words. Yet, he couldn’t seem to process either one.

He heard the ding of the elevator, and the lurching of it sent him back to his knees. He felt sick.

Thomas’ voice did not stop the entire way, even past the familiar click of Alex’s door shutting behind them.

That’s when he began to calm down. Just slightly. He could process Thomas’ words now, and much to his surprise they weren’t the belittling remarks he’d expected. It was more along the lines of, “Don’t worry,” “You’re okay,” and, “I’ve got you.”

The last one sent a choked sob up Alex’s throat. He couldn’t let this happen.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” the younger man shouted, shoving himself away from Thomas and slammed against the wall, effectively knocking the wind out of himself.

Smooth.

He curled in on himself, as if he were trying to hide from the Virginian seated opposite him at the foot of his bed. He was embarrassed. Not only was Thomas witnessing Alex at his most vulnerable, but his room was a mess. Papers cluttered his small desk, seemingly unorganized but in Alex’s mind each had a special place. Textbooks were laying open, scattered on the floor in a ritualistic circle from his late study session the night prior. A bottle of ibuprofen lay open on its side.

He felt the bed shift, and simultaneously prayed that Thomas was leaving but also that he wasn’t. He didn’t want to be alone, but he didn’t want Thomas to be here either. He knew he would use the moment against him next time Thomas felt the need to pick on Alex (which seemed to be whenever he was even remotely bored).

The bed shifted again, and he could tell the larger man had seated himself closer to Alex.

“What can I do for you?”

Alex uncovered his face, meeting Thomas’ gaze. His features were soft, worried almost, and somehow Alex felt comforted by this.

“Just…hold me, please,” Alex whispered, ashamed.

Thomas did exactly as he was told and pulled the small boy to his lap, letting him cry. This was a side of Thomas that Alex had never seen, and he figured the opposite must be the same. In that moment they were almost two entirely different people. Alex, normally full of passion and able to dictate perfectly, found himself weakened for what seemed like no apparent reason. Thomas, typically a sneering, condescending oppressor, became a safety blanket of soothing words and gentle touches.

This wasn’t right, was it?

Alex’s sobs soon turned to hiccups and small whimpers, and when he regained control of his senses he could feel Thomas’ hands running through his hair. He felt small, weak, flawed.

Thomas broke the wordless silence. “What hap-”

“I’m in love with you,” Alex blurted pathetically, interrupting him and choking on another sob, “and…and I think that’s terrifying.”

“Why is it terrifying?”

“Because you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“You don’t?”

“If I hated you, what would I even be doing here?”

"Fair, I guess." Alex was confused, and he was sure it showed on his face when he looked up at Thomas. “Then…why do you always fight with me?”

“Because it pisses you off,” Thomas admitted. “The most beautiful thing about people is what they look like when they’re determined. You look beautiful when you try to prove me wrong.”

Alex let the words envelope him. Thomas Jefferson had called him beautiful. He let silence fall between the two of them, but it wasn’t forced or awkward like he expected. It felt natural. It felt domestic.

“Where do we go from here?” Thomas finally asked, once again breaking the silence.

“I…I don’t know,” Alex said, still curled up in Thomas’ lap, his face pressed to the man’s jacket. “But wherever we go, let’s do it slowly.”

“Slowly?”

“I don’t want to be hurt again.”

Thomas nodded, though Alex didn’t see it. It made sense, Alex was a recipe for disaster. His very aura was simply a beacon of desperation, and it made sense that would cause problems for him. It wasn’t a secret that Alex had a troubling past.

“Deal.”


End file.
